How often do we underestimate ourselves with reasons that we know are mere excuses!
Last month, when I visited a pet shop, I met my fifth-grade friend.
He was surprised to know that I gave up on writing. “You were working on a novel, right? Why the hell did you stop it?”
“You know,” I said, “It’s bigger than we can perceive: the world of publishers, readers. And I feel like a grain of sand.”
“It’s not really easy. The worst thing about Dreaming Big is that they make us feel so small,” I said.
But my friend denied, “Bro, you shouldn’t give up.”
“Why don’t you write a book and prove me wrong,” I said.
He didn’t answer. He felt that I’m out of ‘convincing-band’. “So, what are you up to? I mean in the pet shop.” He asked with a disappointed face.
“I’m buying a pet bird.”
“That black one. It looks cute.”
I always have an affinity for tiny birds for their overloaded cuteness and morning songs. I was lately depressed with my writing-renunciation and needed something to cheer me up. Google suggested to me to get a pet. Just to make me feel better.
The bird which I bought was the size of my fist. Its feathers are fragile, beak soft and body hollow. I grabbed it in my palms and fed it bird food.
Stepping out of the pet-shop, “The bird looks weak,” I said to my friend, caressing its head.
“But, I never thought you’d give up on writing,” he said—back to the same topic.
I understand it’s difficult to convince someone to believe in what you believe is right.
“I know, giving up hurts. But you need to get this point. Dreams are like clouds hanging up in the sky, they look tiny when we look up. But when we plunge to take a flight, only then, we realize how big they are and how small we are.”
He was about to reply and… the bird slipped out of my hands.
Before we realized, the tiny pet bird flew away. We raised our heads helplessly staring at the bird flapping its wings against the clouds. It looked weak, feathers fragile, beak soft and body hollow. That moment, looking up at the bird, I looked down on myself.
The bird was small, but it didn’t accept its smallness. That’s what it taught me, slapping with its wings. Birds know how big the clouds are but they don’t know how small they are. And even when they know how small they are, they don’t believe in it. The true size of someone is the size they think they are.
You’re small, not because you’re small, but because you think you’re small.
Everyone has a dream, but how many of them really end up living it?
The reason is that we doubt. We doubt what we can do.
I always considered the grains of sand on the shore as weakness. But they have survived a million tides of the infinite ocean. Yet, they stick to the ground. What kind of strength does a grain of sand have to face the ocean? What kind of strength does a bird have to face the clouds? Their strength isn’t in their bodies. It is in their hearts.
Vinay Pittampally is a life-inspired writer. He’s extremely passionate about storytelling and the mysteries of life. He’s popularly known by the pseudonym Stable Wanderer. He believes that a writer, though sits stable on his chair, wanderers to every nook and corner of the world (outer & inner). Apart from writing, he’s an artist, graphic designer and an admirer of the good things that life has. You can find him on Instagram, Facebook and on his home site Stable Wanderer.
Image courtesy of Alejandro Escamilla.